When it All Goes Wrong
by Vol lady
Summary: Jarrod learns that sometimes you do everything right, but it all goes wrong anyway, and you can't keep the bad news from the people who love you even if you try.
1. Chapter 1

When it All Goes Wrong

Chapter 1

As soon as he came through the front door, Jarrod dropped his briefcase and valise on the floor near the stairs, left his hat on the table, and headed straight for his "thinking chair." He collapsed in a heap, stretching his legs out and leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He reveled in the total silence around him, until –

"Jarrod! I thought I heard somebody come in!"

Nick came in from the kitchen, eating an apple. The loud voice, the crunching sound, the spurs jingling – "Nick, please, can you be quiet for just a minute or so? My head is clanging like a fire bell."

"Oh," Nick said, more quietly. "Want a drink?"

"In a minute or two," Jarrod said, without opening his eyes. "What are you doing here in the middle of the day anyway?"

"Had to go to town. If I knew you'd be coming in, I'd have waited for you. Why do you have a headache?"

"Because life is a headache. Trouble on the train from San Francisco to Sacramento yesterday. Trouble on the train down here. Everything took twice as long as it should have, and it was hot and noisy and right now I just need a minute or two of peace."

Nick said, "All right," and clumped and jangled away back to the kitchen.

Jarrod sighed when the silence returned. He stretched his neck every which way to try to relieve the headache. Then the front door opened.

"Jarrod!"

His sister's voice, usually a welcome sound but not today. Jarrod groaned.

"What's the matter?" Audra asked as she removed her riding gloves and came into the parlor.

"Headache," Jarrod said. "I just need a little quiet. Forgive me if I don't get up just yet."

Audra smiled, even though his eyes were still closed and he didn't see the smile. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. That made him smile.

"Best headache cure ever," Jarrod said, opened his eyes and sat up. He took hold of Audra's hand and held onto it.

"Not really, I'm sure, but we have some headache powders in the kitchen," Audra said. "Would you like me to get them?"

"No," Jarrod said and kissed her hand. "I'm getting better already."

"Is Nick around?" Audra asked.

Jarrod let her go. "He's in the kitchen, I think. Keep him there for a while so my headache doesn't come back."

Audra laughed a little and headed for the kitchen.

Jarrod finally got up and fetched himself a scotch at the refreshment table. Just one, he told himself, thinking it might help him relax. Two or more would just make his headache worse later.

He looked around the room as he drank his scotch slowly, enjoying it. He could hear Nick's voice from the kitchen but couldn't make out the words. The dull drone of his brother's baritone became almost as irritating as his full voice could be, so Jarrod took his scotch into the library.

He found his mother there reading. "Afternoon, Mother," he said and kissed her.

"I didn't know you were coming in today," Victoria said, put her book aside and drew him down beside her.

Jarrod sat down, glanced at the title of the book, and sipped his scotch. "I shouldn't have. The trip was dreadful."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but why are you here?"

"I needed a break from San Francisco," Jarrod said.

"Difficult cases?"

"You might say that. How are things around here? Peaceful?"

"As peaceful as they can get with your middle brother around." She looked at him closely then. "What's the matter?"

"Just a headache," Jarrod said and sipped more of his scotch.

"Working too hard."

"That and such a rotten trip home. Delays everywhere, noise everywhere. Don't worry about me, Mother. A few days of not working too hard, and I'll be fine."

"So, what are your plans? Nick and Heath are a bit shorthanded. Maybe you should help them out."

"I may do that, but I think tomorrow I'll just sleep in late, take a good long walk, and read a good book."

Victoria chuckled. "I have to admit, I'm glad to see you do that. You don't do it enough."

Jarrod leaned over and kissed her. "You are probably right, Lovely Lady. I think I will go upstairs, clean up and bit and change into some fresh clothes." He got up, finished off his scotch and put the glass down on the desk in the corner.

"You have time for a bath if you'd like," Victoria said. "Might help you get rid of that headache."

"I'll do that, if my little sister hasn't already claimed the tub," Jarrod said and left the room.

He went upstairs and learned pretty quickly that Audra had, in fact, claimed the entire wc. He went to his room but discovered there was no fresh water there – not unusual, since no one was expecting him home. With a big sigh, he got out of his traveling clothes and into more casual shirt and pants.

Then he lay down on the bed and draped his arm over his eyes, hoping to blot out the light and ease the pounding. It wasn't working very well, though, and he wasn't so tired that he could fall asleep. He sighed heavily. Maybe leaving San Francisco wasn't going to be the relief he wanted, not with the troubles he was bringing with him. He sat up on the edge of his bed, keeping his eyes closed, and he stayed that way for several minutes. It didn't help.

There was a knock at his door. He opened his eyes. "Come in."

Audra came in the door, looking bathed and refreshed. "Mother said you wanted the tub but I had it occupied," she said. "I thought I'd let you know it's free again."

Jarrod smiled. "Not a problem, honey. I will get some fresh water for my room here, though." He got up.

Audra said, "Mother also said you're planning to sleep in tomorrow. I'll leave the bathroom all to you after nine o'clock."

Jarrod fetched the pitcher from his dresser. "Don't change your routine on my account, Audra."

"That's no change," Audra said. "I'm supposed to go into the church in the morning anyway, to help with dusting and cleaning for Sunday services."

"Oh, well, I guess it is Friday, isn't it? I lost track of what day it is."

"You _have_ been working too hard, Jarrod. It's a good thing you'll be taking it easy for a while."

Jarrod gave her a smile. "I'm looking forward to it."

XXXXXXX

Jarrod was coming down the stairs as the front door opened and Heath came in. Heath looked startled to see him. As he took his hat off and left it on the table in the foyer, Heath held out a piece of paper to his older brother. Jarrod stopped in the foyer with him and took the paper.

"I didn't know you were here, Jarrod," Heath said. "Rider just brought this telegram in. I nearly sent him back to town with it."

"I wasn't planning to be here, but I changed my mind," Jarrod said, opened the paper and read it.

"Something important from San Francisco?"

Jarrod read it, then slumped just a little involuntarily. Heath noticed. Jarrod said, "From Sacramento. Not urgent," and folded and pocketed the wire. He gave Heath a slap on the back. "How you been, little brother?"

They went into the parlor together, where Heath helped himself to a glass of whiskey. "Not bad," Heath said. "Nick's been behaving himself, so my work's cut in half."

Jarrod chuckled, sitting down in his "thinking chair" but passing on the liquor. "I don't know where he's gotten to. He was here when I came in about an hour ago."

"Oh, he's out in the barn chewing out one of the hands," Heath said, brought his glass over and stood at the fireplace, facing Jarrod. "How've you been?"

"Too busy," Jarrod said, "and tired."

"Want a drink?"

Jarrod shook his head and closed his eyes again, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"That's a headache pose," Heath said.

"That's because I have a headache," Jarrod said and dropped his hand. "Dreadful trip home. I'd have been better off staying in San Francisco."

"Whatcha been working on so hard there?"

Jarrod heaved a sigh. "Just too much," he said. "Too much of everything."

"Something particularly hard?"

Jarrod tried a smile. "Not really, Heath. I just need a break from everything, that's all."

"Well, we can work that headache right out of you if you want us to," Heath said.

Jarrod chuckled. "No doubt, but I'm gonna give tomorrow over to sleeping late and reading a good book, maybe the same on Sunday. We'll see about Monday."

Heath nodded. "The work will still be there."

"The work is always there, isn't it?" Jarrod said, and he closed his eyes again.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Jarrod slept so much later the next morning that by the time he finished his bath and other morning ablutions, it was lunchtime. "I'm sorry," he quickly apologized to his mother when he finally came downstairs and joined her in the dining room. "I guess I needed the rest even more than I thought I did," he said and gave her a very overdue morning kiss.

"Then I'm happy you got it," Victoria said. "Headache gone?"

"Yes, it is," Jarrod said and sat down to her right.

Silas poured him some coffee. "I looked in on you earlier, Mr. Jarrod – just to be sure you were still breathing."

Jarrod's blue eyes twinkled. "Was I?"

Silas laughed.

"So, the rest of the day will be given to a walk and reading a good book, as I recall your plans," Victoria said and sipped her coffee.

Jarrod took a swig of his own cup. "That's the plan. What time do we expect Audra home?"

"Oh, another hour or so," Victoria said. "Would you like some company on that walk?"

Jarrod looked pleased and surprised. "Yes, I would, Lovely Lady."

After lunch they were walking together, out past the stables and along the drive toward the Stockton Road. It was a beautiful day, bright and not too hot. Their walk was a bit more of a stroll than a walk, but neither one of them was dissatisfied about that.

"You know, I'm glad you came home when you did," Victoria said. "We weren't expecting you for at least another week."

"Yes, I know," Jarrod said. "But a couple things finished up earlier than I planned, and I've been away too long."

"Two months," Victoria said with an agreeing nod. "You haven't been away that long for quite a while."

"I'll try not to let it happen again anytime soon," Jarrod said. "What have I missed around here?"

"Not very much, really. Nick and Heath took a hunting trip while you were gone. They brought home enough venison to last for a while."

"That's good – and unusual, actually."

"They were very lucky this time, only out for two days. There's a new young banker in town Audra has been seeing."

"Really? Does it look promising?"

"It's still too early to tell. How about you, darling? Any time for a social life in San Francisco?"

"Not over the past two months," Jarrod admitted. "I'm sorry. I know I'm way past due for giving you grandchildren."

Victoria knew she was always touching a nerve when she discussed Jarrod's social life with him. Since his wife Beth's death, he'd been reluctant to even risk falling in love. Victoria could understand that, but she wished she could ease him back into wanting a wife and a family again. It had been two years now. But she didn't think this was the visit to get too deeply into that subject. "Oh, I'm not complaining. I just wish you didn't work so hard and gave yourself more time for yourself."

"Soon, Mother," Jarrod said. "I'm working on getting my workload more manageable. What about Nick and Heath? Any new women in their lives?"

"Well, you know Nick. Any pretty face that comes into town, and he's ready to get married. Heath is more like you – more careful about who he gives his love to."

Beth's face slipped back into Jarrod's mind again for a moment, but he didn't say anything about it. He changed the subject. "What about Stockton? Anything exciting going on there?"

"Not really, but I suppose it's good news when a town stays quiet. How long do you think you'll be home this time, Jarrod?"

"A couple weeks at least. I need a good long rest."

"Did anything happen lately that's alarmed you?"

Jarrod said, "No. No more than usual. Just a lot of work."

Victoria wondered if he was telling her the truth, but she didn't push that subject either. He had to keep almost all of his cases to himself, to protect his clients' confidentiality. She slowed and they turned around together. "If we don't head back now, you won't be reading much of the book you're interested in."

"I still have to decide what I want to read. Victor Hugo, maybe."

"In English or French?"

Jarrod chuckled. "My French has gotten pretty rusty. I think I'll stick to English."

By the time they got back to the stable yard, Audra was riding in behind them. She had taken a buggy to town, and Ciego took it from her as soon as she climbed out. "I was afraid you'd still be asleep, Jarrod," she said.

"I nearly was," Jarrod admitted.

Audra handed him a folded paper. "This telegram came for you."

"Thank you," he said, and unfolded and read it. He folded it back up and put it into his pocket.

"Nothing urgent, I hope," Victoria said.

Jarrod shook his head. "Nothing urgent. I'll deal with it later."

As they walked into the house together, Victoria asked Audra, "Did you finish at the church?"

"Yes, it's all cleaned up and ready for services tomorrow," Audra said. "Do you expect to sleep through them, Jarrod?"

Jarrod chuckled. "Never can tell."

As Victoria and Audra went into the house, Jarrod lagged behind. He took the telegram out of his pocket and read it again. And he frowned at it.

XXXXXXX

"Jarrod?!"

Jarrod could hear Nick's voice echo throughout the house. He was comfortable in the sofa in the study, reading, so he wasn't about to get up just because Nick was bellowing again. Sooner or later, his loud middle brother would find his way in here. Jarrod continued to read.

But Nick came in less than a minute later. Somebody had told him where his older brother was.

"Jarrod," Nick said.

"I'm right here, Nick," Jarrod replied without looking up from his book. "What do you want?"

"A straight answer," Nick said and parked himself in front of his brother, his hands at his sides, staring defiantly.

Jarrod looked up. "About what?"

Nick reduced the volume in his voice, and produced another wire for Jarrod that a runner had just delivered. He held it out, and as Jarrod took it and read it, Nick said, "The runner blabbed. He asked how you were doing, given that you just got that twelve-year-old in San Francisco indicted for murder."

Jarrod read the wire. "Nick, this involves a client of mine. I can't – "

"It's public knowledge in San Francisco, and with all these wires you're getting, everybody in Stockton's gonna know you're involved by the time the sun goes down."

"Well, what do you want from me, Nick?" Jarrod asked sharply, beginning to feel his headache coming back. "This involves my client. My client is still my client and I have to keep his situation confidential."

"It's public knowledge you got a twelve-year-old indicted for murder!"

Jarrod stood up quickly, right into Nick's face. "My client is his father, Nick! Yes, I was defending him on a murder charge, and I found out it was his twelve-year-old son who really did the killing! That's all I can say! What else do you want from me?"

"If it's public knowledge, why didn't you tell us that much at least?"

"I don't have to tell you everything I do, Nick! Now let it alone!"

Jarrod threw the book down on the sofa and stormed out for the living room, knowing full well that Nick would be after him all the way. He headed straight for the refreshment table without saying a word to his mother and sister sitting in the settee.

Nick was right behind his older brother, and Heath came in from the kitchen just as Nick hit the foyer. "What's all the yelling about?" Heath asked.

Nick kept going right by him, not stopping until he was right behind Jarrod, who was pouring himself a scotch. "You should have told us, Jarrod. There's nothing confidential – "

Jarrod wheeled and got into Nick's face again. "Maybe I just didn't want to talk about it, Nick. Did you ever think of that? And thank you for bringing my headache back. I missed it a lot!"

Jarrod headed for his thinking chair, sat down in it and stared into the fireplace. Victoria and Audra looked at him, then at each other, then at Nick and finally at Heath, who just shrugged.

Victoria said quietly, calmly, "Would someone mind explaining what the explosion of the day is all about?"

Jarrod popped up out of his chair. "Yes, I mind," he said, put his scotch on the coffee table and went out the front door.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Nick!"

Nick was heading for the front door to keep after Jarrod, but his mother's voice called him back. Still seething, he came back in to where his mother, sister and brother Heath were gathered, confused and even alarmed.

"What is this about?" Victoria asked.

"A runner just brought Jarrod a telegram and opened his big mouth," Nick said. "It was in the San Francisco paper yesterday that Jarrod got a twelve-year-old boy in San Francisco indicted for murder."

" _Twelve_?!" Audra blurted out.

"And he never said word one to us about it," Nick said.

"What are you upset about?" Victoria asked. "The fact that he got a twelve-year-old indicted, or the fact that he didn't talk to _you_ about it?"

Nick calmed down right away. Maybe he was mostly peeved because Jarrod had kept this to himself, not so much about the fact that he had done it.

Victoria said, "Does this involve a client of Jarrod's?"

"Apparently," Nick said.

"Then why do you expect him to tell us about it?" Victoria asked. "He can't tell us about his business with his clients."

"The twelve-year-old being indicted is public knowledge, and so is Jarrod's involvement."

"And why does that entitle us to know everything else about it?"

Nick's stomach was jumping up in him again. "Mother, he's been getting these mysterious telegrams and having these rotten headaches."

"Right now, it seems you're the one giving him the headache."

Nick grumbled and poured himself some whiskey.

"Leave him alone, Nick," Victoria said. "He'll talk about it when he's ready, and when he believes he can do so without breaking his oath to his client."

Nick looked at Heath, hoping for some support, but Heath just smiled one of his lop-sided smiles, shrugged and shook his head. Nick got the message. Mother has spoken.

XXXXXXXX

Jarrod wandered down to the corral and watched a couple horses there as they trotted about. They spotted him and came straight to him, because they knew he usually carried sugar. Jarrod smiled as they pushed their great heads over the rail and nuzzled for his pocket.

Jarrod laughed and took out two sugar cubes. He fed one to each of the horses, saying, "There you go. No more today." He showed them empty hands, and they got the message and went back to what they were doing before he showed up.

"Jarrod?"

Jarrod sighed, hearing the familiar voice. Now it was Heath coming after him. He didn't turn around, but in a moment he felt Heath step up beside him. "Not you, too," Jarrod said.

"It was either me or Nick," Heath said.

"There's nothing I can talk about, Heath, so just let it alone, all right?"

"All right," Heath said and rested his arms on the top corral rail. "You planning to come out and work with us on Monday?"

"If this headache Nick gave me eases up."

"Take one of those powders Mother has."

Jarrod just grunted. He was not keen on medications. They didn't always work, and sometimes they created more problems than they cured.

"I know Nick can spread the pain around, but he doesn't usually give you headaches," Heath said. "Think you need to see the doctor?"

"I will if they keep up, but if I get out and work – even if I work for Nick – they ought to go away."

"Your line of work is good at creating headaches, isn't it?"

"Sometimes."

Heath recognized that Jarrod was good and closed off. Even casual conversation seemed to be out of his ken at the moment. Heath finally backed off from the corral and gave his older brother a slap on the back. "Come on back inside for a drink. I promise, I'll slug Nick if he leans on you too much."

That brought a nod from his older brother. "I'll be there in a minute or two."

Heath went back into the house. Jarrod didn't even watch him go. He felt bad he was leaving his family in the dark about things – he always felt bad when he did that, even when he had to. Sometimes he thought it might be time to give up his profession and live like a normal human being again, one who could talk about this problems with his family and not have to keep them confidential when they ate away at him. Lately each time he had that thought, it was more compelling.

XXXXXXXX

Sunday was quiet, and the family went to church together. Thankfully everyone left Jarrod alone about the news in the paper, even though Jarrod could tell they were itching to ask him about it. He just kept a smile on his face, and the headache did not come back.

Jarrod did go out to work with Nick and Heath on Monday. They were replacing a section of fence that had been taken down by trees falling in a storm. Nick and Heath had already removed the fallen trees, so now the work was to reset the posts and restring wire.

It was hot, so they all shed their shirts, but they kept their gloves on. They did not want to shred their hands on post splinters and barbed wire. They did not talk much as they worked – Jarrod seemed want to do more thinking than talking. He didn't even begin much conversation when they broke for lunch.

Nick was beginning to feel irritated at the silence. Heath could see it, so he said, "You know, we're gonna finish up here in another couple hours, and we're not far from that waterfall on the San Pedro creek. I sure could fancy a cold dip before we head home."

"Not a bad idea," Nick said. "Mother would appreciate it if we didn't smell too bad when we got to the house."

Even Jarrod said, "I'm in."

Around mid-afternoon, they were finished with the fence and were skinny-dipping in the creek near the waterfall. Jarrod was the first under the falls, letting the water run down his face and his back and it felt so good he was reluctant to give it up. _How sweet to lose your troubles in a waterfall_ , he thought.

Eventually he swam out from under the falls and found a spot to just lie back and enjoy the cool water. Nick and Heath took a few minutes to take in the falls, and after about an hour in the water, they were all dressed again and ready to head home.

Nick and Heath sat together on the bench of the buckboard, while Jarrod made himself a spot to lie down in the back, his legs bent at the knees and hanging down, his hands under the back of his head. Heath glanced back at him and turned around again. "A couple weeks of work like today and our big brother will be right as rain again."

Nick, driving, did not turn around to look at Jarrod, but said, "I hope so," he said quietly, "but I got the feeling there's more wrong than he's talking about."

"Wrong with his work?"

"I think so. But he won't talk about it yet, not even if we hold his feet to the fire. The man can stay as tight-lipped as they come when he wants."

Jarrod could hear them, even though they were trying to be quiet and the rumbling of the wagon interfered. He had hoped, when he came home, that no one would see how bothered he was about his work, but the newspaper story blasted those plans right out of the water. He knew it wouldn't be long he would have to tell them the whole thing, but just composing the words he would use to do that was making that headache come back.

With a sigh, he sat up and began to stretch his neck again to get rid of the tension. Heath noticed. He looked back, then looked at Nick again. Nick took an unhappy deep breath and moved the horses along faster.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The decision about what to tell them and when was taken away from him. When they got back to the house, Nick suggested Jarrod go in while he and Heath unloaded the wagon, and Jarrod took him up on it. Stretching his neck hadn't kept the headache away. Maybe just one small glass of scotch would do the trick. But when he went inside, leaving his hat and gloves on the table in the foyer, his mother and Audra were there in the living room, sitting on the settee. They were staring at him and did not say a word. He saw his mother holding a newspaper.

"Some good hard work was good for me," Jarrod said and poured himself the scotch.

"When were you going to tell us the rest of what's going on, Jarrod?" Victoria asked.

Jarrod did not look at them, but took a swallow of the scotch. He suddenly wished he were drunk. "What do you mean?" he asked, even though he knew exactly what she meant.

Audra recited the headline she had memorized. "'Attorney Barkley Suspended Pending Investigation'."

"Well, I was planning to tell you before it came out that way, but our newspaper editor is a bit quicker than I am," Jarrod said.

"The article says one of your clients has filed a complaint against you," Audra said.

"The father of the boy who's been indicted for murder," Victoria said.

Jarrod nodded and finally turned around to face them, still drinking his scotch. "The father was charged with murdering his wife. I told him that I would be investigating his defense and I would let it go where it went. I wouldn't hide anything if it was pivotal to his defense. And then I discovered plenty of evidence that it was the boy who killed her, not his father. The father begged me not to let the truth out, but I had to. The boy is very troubled, and he's going to grow up troubled and in trouble if I kept what I learned to myself. I couldn't do it under the law and by then the law knew the truth anyway. The charges against the father were dropped, but the boy's been indicted and he's being held in jail until he can get a lawyer and they can figure out what to do with him. And the father is livid. He filed a complaint against me with the bar. I've been suspended until the investigation is done and I'm exonerated."

"You think you will be exonerated," Victoria said.

Jarrod nodded. "I should be, but the damage will be done. A suspension can be as bad as being disbarred permanently, at least in the public eye. And the bar's investigation is liable to unearth some things about me that none of us really wants to be put on the public record anywhere. This is going to be rough, and I wanted time to figure out how to spare you the worst of it before I told you about it. I'm sorry."

Victoria got up and came over to him. She had a mixture of compassion and anger in her eyes. "How in the world did you ever believe you could keep this from us?"

"I was planning to tell you. I just hadn't worked out how."

"We've seen you through some very bad times, Jarrod Barkley. Finding the right words should never keep you from telling us the truth, not anymore."

"I'm sorry. I'm not always very wise when it comes to my own actions."

Jarrod felt more of a lecture coming, but Nick and Heath came in the front door and interrupted it. They took off their hats and gloves and left them on the table with Jarrod's before they headed toward the refreshment table – but the way Victoria and Jarrod were standing there, blocking the table, brought Nick and Heath up short.

Nick recognized the look in his mother's eyes. She was mad at Jarrod about something. Nick and Heath both realized that the fat was in the fire now. Heath saw the newspaper lying on the settee. Audra saw that he saw it, and she picked up the paper and held it out to him. Heath went to her and took it.

Nick stayed right where he was, standing with his mother and older brother. "What have we missed?" he asked.

Heath had read the story headline and held the paper out to his brother. "Nick – "

Nick left the refreshment table without a drink, walked over to Heath, took the paper and read the headline. Victoria left Jarrod with his head hanging and went back to her seat on the settee. Nick was back in Jarrod's face almost immediately. Heath hung back a little, standing between his brothers and the women, not really sure what his part in this argument was going to be – would he be breaking Jarrod and Nick apart or consoling his mother and sister? He waited for his cue.

Nick just stared at Jarrod, who did not look back at him. He finished his scotch, looked down into his glass, and finally spoke. "Go ahead, Nick. Let me have it."

"Why?" Nick asked. "Why didn't you tell us about this?"

"Because I didn't know how to tell you," Jarrod said. "I didn't know how to say that there would be an investigation into my handling of this case and an investigation into me, and in the meantime, I'm suspended from practicing law. But there it is. That's what's happening."

"You think this is gonna be big trouble for you, Jarrod?" Heath asked.

"Depends," Jarrod said. "They could look into a lot of my background as well as this case. If they decide my fate on just this case, I'll be exonerated, I'm pretty sure. If they dig too deeply into the rest of me – well, I have my deep dark secrets, don't I?"

Jarrod moved away, extricating himself from that space between Nick and the whiskey, wandering over to the fireplace and standing there. He put his empty glass on the mantle.

"Surely your record as an attorney, all the good work you've done over the years, that has to count for something," Audra said.

"It will," Jarrod said. "It's just a question of what else they dig up to weigh against it."

"What have all those telegrams been about, Jarrod?" Heath asked.

"Bits of information the board of conduct wants," Jarrod said. "A summons to be in Sacramento before them a week from Thursday."

"Do you need an attorney, Jarrod?" Victoria asked.

"No," Jarrod said. "It's not an adversarial proceeding. It will be if they disbar me and I fight it."

"How can they possibly disbar you?" Nick asked. "You're the most ethical lawyer I ever met!"

Jarrod looked up at him. "Rimfire, Nick. Rimfire."

Nick looked like he'd been punched. "They can't possibly hold that against you."

"Oh, yes, they can. If they open this investigation up wide enough – my goose is cooked."

"What can we do to help, Jarrod?" Heath asked.

"Nothing," Jarrod said. "Absolutely nothing. You have to stay out of it, period. They have no grounds to drag you into it, and I won't let them do that. This is my battle, not yours."

"They can't subpoena us if they want to dig into Rimfire?" Nick asked.

"Not at this stage. Only if I appeal the disbarment to the court."

"Perhaps we're getting a little ahead of ourselves," Victoria said. "Jarrod, what are the chances this board of conduct will look into anything other than the particular case your client is complaining about?"

Jarrod shrugged. "Depends on things like their workload and how angry they get about this complaint. And how much press the indictment on that twelve-year-old gets. I'm hoping it's gotten all the press it's going to get, but there's no telling with something like this. We'll just have to wait and see."

No one spoke.

Jarrod turned and looked into the empty fireplace. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this before you read it in the paper. I suppose – well, I suppose I didn't know how to tell you my problems from a couple years ago might be coming back on us again, or how to tell you I was letting you down again."

Again, no one spoke, until Victoria finally said, "Jarrod, I won't be foolish enough to say you've never let us down, but this time it doesn't seem like you have. Did you handle this particular case in the way you think you should have?"

"Yes," Jarrod said. "I did, and if the board sticks to judging me on just this case, I should be exonerated. But the press I've already gotten so far is going to stick for a long time."

"You've got a lot of support in Stockton, Jarrod," Heath said. "Things might not be as bad as you think."

"Well, I suppose we'll find out when people vote with their feet," Jarrod said. "I could be doing the family legal business exclusively six months from now, and that's only if I'm exonerated."

Jarrod avoided looking at them, knowing full well his family members were exchanging looks with each other, not knowing what to say now. Jarrod felt his embarrassment growing, and even shame. Not as bad as the shame he felt after Rimfire, but then this investigation wasn't over yet. He knew there was a lot more shame to come.

He rubbed his eyes with one hand. His headache was back in full force.

"I think I'd better clean up a bit and change my clothes," Jarrod said and headed upstairs.

Every one of his family members watched him go.

Nick said, "We gotta figure out how to help him out of this."

"No," Victoria said. "He said it's his battle, and he's right. We don't know how this proceeding before the bar even works. We don't even know how to fight the battle."

"We can't let him sink or swim by himself."

"We can support him," Audra said. "We can be here when he needs to talk."

"And otherwise stay out of it," Heath said.

Nick gave him a nasty look.

"You know he's right, Nick," Heath said. "We stick our noses in this, we might make it worse for him just because we don't know what we're doing."

Nick gave in with a shake of his head. Heath was right about that.

"Why don't you two clean up and change clothes, too?" Victoria said, getting up. "Audra and I will go help Silas with dinner, and we'll take it from there."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It was late at night, after everyone had gone to bed, that Jarrod opened his briefcase and took out the documents he had brought from San Francisco – the documents about the case of the father of the twelve-year-old kid. Funny, but Jarrod was having trouble even remembering what the client's and the boy's names were. He chalked it up to his headache interfering with his thinking. He looked at the file and remembered. The father was Luther Hammond. The boy was Michael Hammond. The murdered woman was Rebecca Hammond.

His head was really bothering him again, and he realized reading by dim light would not help it any. He wasn't even sure why he was reading over this again. He knew he had done everything properly – explained to Luther Hammond what he was going to do, used the evidence pointing to Michael properly. He'd broken no laws or bar regulations. Reading over the file was just convincing him more of that. But he needed that extra convincing.

They would exonerate him, and if they did it quickly enough, the fact that he had been suspended at all might not drag his practice down that much. The bad press might be forgotten in a couple of months.

IF they didn't dig any deeper into his past.

And they shouldn't, Jarrod thought. What happened in Rimfire had nothing to do with this case, nor did anything else in the past. All that was relevant was what happened in this case.

Except, of course, that if they ever did find out what he did after his wife was murdered, they would disbar him for sure. His actions were completely incompatible with being a member of a bar. Heck, he knew a man who was denied admission to the bar just because he had once helped a man who had robbed a stagecoach hide out for a short time. The bar did not tolerate imperfection very well.

And I am very imperfect, Jarrod thought.

There was no obligation under the bar regulations that he come forward and confess his sins, if they did not result in criminal convictions. He hadn't even been charged for what he did in Rimfire. He knew he should have been, and he would have been convicted. He deserved to have been charged and convicted.

Maybe that was what was eating at him so much it was giving him headaches. He deserved to have been charged and convicted. Or maybe he didn't deserve it. The Rimfire sheriff would have charged him, if he'd deserved it.

Jarrod knew he was thinking around in crazy circles and doing himself no good at all. He closed the file, put the light out, and went to bed.

In the morning, he knew he had slept longer than he planned, just by the strength of the sun shining through his window. Nick and Heath would have gone out into the field more than an hour ago. Jarrod sat up on the edge of his bed, took stock of the headache (there wasn't one), and went into the wc. He shaved and completed his other ablutions, and in about forty-five minutes, he came downstairs.

"I wondered if we were going to see you this morning or whether it would be lunchtime again before you came down," his mother said from the living room.

Jarrod checked the time on the clock by the stairs – it was only a bit past nine. "Nobody woke me – I guess they really didn't need me," he said and went into the living room.

His mother was darning socks. Silas could do that, but his mother liked to do mindless little chores sometimes, especially if something was bothering her.

"I hope I'm not the cause of that," Jarrod said.

Victoria said, "You are. It's your sock."

Jarrod sat down beside her. "Where has Audra gone now?"

"Into town on an errand – mostly to see a certain bank clerk, I think."

"Ah," Jarrod said.

"What do you have in mind for today?" Victoria asked.

"Thought I'd take a ride out and see if Nick and Heath need anything done," Jarrod said. "Do you know where they are?"

"With the north herd, I believe. No headaches today?"

"No, not at the moment. I need to quit sleeping late, or they'll come back, though."

"And you need to quit reading late into the night. I saw the light under your door."

"I'm done with that."

Victoria finished with the sock, snipped the thread off and put the needle into the pincushion in her lap. "Here you go," she said and handed Jarrod the sock.

"Where's the other one?" Jarrod asked.

"Up in your dresser somewhere," Victoria said. "Go get yourself something to eat before you go out. Not eating will give you a headache, too."

"Yes, ma'am," Jarrod said, got up, stuck the sock in his pocket and headed for the kitchen.

A knock at the front door detoured him. He recognized the young man standing there when he opened it, even though he did not remember the boy's name. The young man handed him a folded sheet of paper. "Telegram for you, Mr. Barkley."

Jarrod took the telegram and tipped the boy. He closed the door and unfolded the paper as he came back into the foyer, but he stopped there, reading. Sighing.

"What is it, Jarrod?" Victoria asked.

Jarrod refolded it and started to put it into his pocket, but when he looked up at his mother, he knew he couldn't avoid telling her what it said. He came back into the living room and sat down in his thinking chair.

"From the board of conduct," he said. "I've got to think a bit before I answer these questions."

"What does it ask?" Victoria asked.

Jarrod looked at it. "They want to know if I have ever had any criminal convictions."

"You haven't," Victoria said quickly.

"They also want to know if I've ever been acquitted of any criminal charges."

"You haven't," Victoria said again.

"They also want to know what if any charges were brought against me in connection with an incident in Rimfire, Nevada in 1878."

Victoria swallowed. "There were none."

Jarrod sighed. "No, but they know about Rimfire. They know what I did."

"Who would have told them?"

"It's not really that big a secret around Stockton, Mother. I'm not quite sure how it got around – Chad at the depot maybe telling people how badly I scared him and where I'd gone. The state I was in for so long after I got back. I don't know. But the board of conduct knows. I shouldn't be surprised."

Jarrod folded the paper and put it into his pocket. Victoria asked, "How can I help?"

Jarrod shook his head. "You can't. I just need to figure out how I'm going to phrase the truth, when I know they already know what it is."

Jarrod got up and went off to the kitchen to get some food. His headache did not return, not yet, but the world seemed like the bottom had dropped out of it and that every step he took was in mid-air. He hardly saw Silas in the kitchen. Jarrod just came in and stood there.

Silas looked at him, wondering what was going on. "Mr. Jarrod? Do you need some breakfast?"

"Uh, yes," Jarrod said absently. "Just a ham sandwich, Silas. I don't need anything more."

"Have a seat and I'll get it right to you. Coffee?"

"Yes," Jarrod said, sitting down. Just the thought of coffee was making him feel more alert.

Silas gave him the coffee first, and he drank greedily. When he brought the sandwich, Silas said, "You always feel better after you eat, Mr. Jarrod."

Jarrod smiled. "As long as it's your cooking, Silas. What do you think, old friend? Can you teach me to cook?"

Silas laughed. "I'd give it a good try, Mr. Jarrod. Why? Do you want to take my job?"

"No," Jarrod said. "No one can take your place, Silas."

"Don't you worry, Mr. Jarrod. No one's gonna take your place, either."

Jarrod realized Silas must have heard some of what was said around the house recently. Silas knew what was going on, but in his practiced way, he found the words to express his support without delving into the subject too deeply. "Thank you, Silas," Jarrod said quietly, sincerely.

The old man smiled and nodded.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

No one was particularly happy when Jarrod said, in no uncertain terms, that he'd be traveling to Sacramento alone to face the board of conduct inquiry the next week. Nick started to grumble about it, but quit when he saw his mother glaring at him. Instead, he got Jarrod to promise he would wire when the interview was over. Comfortable that his family was not going to give him any grief over his decision, Jarrod took himself to town alone and left on the train the day before his interview was scheduled. He didn't want to risk any train trouble keeping him from getting there on time.

He had answered the telegrams that he needed to answer, but mostly he said he preferred to discuss the matters at the interview. He didn't want the telegraph operator or his runner to know the substance of what he had to say. He hadn't received anything back from the board of conduct that said he had to answer by wire, so he went to Sacramento, prepared to talk about anything and everything.

Thankfully, there was no trouble on the train and it arrived in Sacramento on time. Jarrod spend the night before the interview reviewing the Hammond file one more time and fighting off another headache. In the morning he made sure he had a decent breakfast, knowing how weird hunger could make him behave. Since his interview was not to occur until one in the afternoon, he had an early lunch, too, and he arrived at the bar offices ten minutes early. Was he nervous? You bet, not this nervous since he had his "character interview" before he was admitted to the bar, the one in which they asked you a lot of questions about your past and decided if you had the "character" to be a lawyer. In a way, this was another one of those interviews, only now he was nearly fifteen years older and had a lot more of life behind him. Now he knew he had some history that might have made him fail that character interview all those years ago.

Finally, the door to the meeting room opened. A man Jarrod knew from his many times appearing before the legislature and the governor came out, extending his hand. Jarrod took it, but he was incredibly embarrassed, to have to answer questions from men who were in every way his peers, men he had worked with, men he was ashamed to have to talk about his failings with. Men he was ashamed to have judging him.

But he followed Daniel Graves into the room with the big table. Four other men were there, seated on either side of the rectangular mahogany table. Jarrod knew them all. Graves pulled the chair at the end of the table out and motioned Jarrod to sit down there. Jarrod sat.

"I think you know everybody already, Jarrod," Graves said, "and even though that's true, this is a formal interview and we'll be using only last names from here on."

"All right," Jarrod said.

Graves sat down to Jarrod's left and opened up a file waiting for him there. "Let's start with the Hammond complaint….."

XXXXXXX

Nick went to Stockton at about the same time Jarrod was having his interview. Nick was waiting for that wire Jarrod promised to send, but Jarrod told him that he shouldn't expect anything definite today. This interview was only part of the investigation. There would be no decisions made today. Still, Nick asked Heath to take charge of the ranch while he went to town to wait for word from Jarrod. Heath understood Nick was worried and let him go alone.

Nick went to Harry's bar and got a beer, which he nursed very slowly. He checked his pocket watch so often he could scarcely see the hands move. He wondered what they were asking at that interview. What was Jarrod saying now? Did they start out with the Rimfire fiasco, or was that coming at the end?

"You look like a man waiting for his wife to have a baby," Harry finally said to him.

Nick had just checked his watch and found it was a quarter to two. "Naw, just – thinking."

Harry chuckled. "I always get worried when you're thinking, Nick. You want another beer yet? You've been nursing that one for nearly an hour."

Nick had only about an inch of beer left in the mug. He swallowed it down and said, "Yeah, Harry, hit me again."

As Harry poured another one, he asked, "What are you so busy thinking about? You look worried."

"Oh – Jarrod has something going in Sacramento. I'm just wondering how he's doing."

"Sacramento? Didn't I read he was suspended? What's he doing up there?"

"Trying to sort things out," Nick said as Harry gave him the beer.

"Well, I hope he does," Harry said. "Him being suspended is about the stupidest thing ever to come out of Sacramento, and that's saying something."

Nick smiled. "Thanks, Harry. I'll tell him you said that when he gets back."

"Better still, bring him in. I'll buy him a beer. And since you look so worried, that one's on the house for you too, Nick."

"Thanks, Harry," Nick said again. "Keep your fingers crossed I can stop worrying sometime soon."

"You can stop right now. Jarrod will be fine."

Nick smiled, but he looked at his watch again. What would be happening in Sacramento right now?

XXXXXXX

At the moment Nick was wondering, Daniel Graves was saying to Jarrod, "We need to get into something else now, Mr. Barkley. It's come to our attention – we sent you a wire about this so you're not being blindsided – it's come to our attention that in the spring of 1878 you were involved in some activities in Rimfire, Nevada, that may be problematic. Before we ask any questions, we want to hear, in your own words, what happened."

Jarrod swallowed and leaned forward, his forearms on the table now. He did not look any of the men in the eye. He couldn't, not yet anyway. He said, "I met a woman in Washington. She was heading to Denver on the same train as I was coming home to Stockton on. We spent a lot of time together – we talked, we got to know each other. It may sound corny, but we fell in love, before we even reached the Mississippi. By the time we got to Denver and she was getting ready to get off, I knew I wanted more time with her, so I got off too. We spent several days in Denver together, and we got married."

Jarrod went on with the story, explaining who Cass Hyatt was, explaining how Hyatt taken a shot at him but hit his wife instead. He told them how Hyatt had covered his tracks so well that the law had to let him go for lack of evidence.

"But I knew he'd killed her," Jarrod said, growing more definite now, trying hard to keep the memory from arousing his temper. "I went after him. I tracked him for days. I found Hyatt's brother and beat him up, to get him to tell me where Hyatt had gone. I even got close to Hyatt once but he shot me – grazed the side of my head – but as soon as I got my senses back I kept going. I rode into Rimfire draped over my horse, I'm told – passed out from the bullet wound. When I woke up in bed the next morning, I was told Hyatt was in jail there for disturbing the peace the night before. I got out of bed, I – tried to bribe the sheriff to let him out, and he did. Hyatt was scared, really scared that I was going to kill him. He confessed to killing my wife, I beat him up in the street, I was drowning him in a watering trough when my brothers arrived and stopped me. And gentlemen, after that, things are a complete blank for a good week or two. A complete blank. I can tell you my brothers took me home and Hyatt was sentenced to life in prison for murdering my wife, and that was the end of it. That's all I can say. I'll be happy to try to answer any questions you have, but bear in mind I was wounded and I was – well, I was someone I didn't know after my wife was killed and until I started thinking straight again weeks later."

Jarrod waited for the questions, but no one spoke. When he looked up, the men in the room were looking at one another. "Mr. Barkley," Graves finally said, and then it was a few seconds before he went on, "first of all, let me say we are all deeply sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Jarrod said quietly.

"You admit you beat up this man Hyatt's brother."

"I do admit that," Jarrod said.

"Unprovoked?"

"Unprovoked."

"You admit you tried to bribe the sheriff of Rimfire to let Hyatt out of jail."

"I do."

"Did he take the money?"

"No, but he let Hyatt out of jail anyway. The man had lost his own wife the way I lost mine, and the law didn't punish the man who killed her, either. That may explain his behavior."

"And you tried to kill Hyatt in the street."

"I was killing him. My brothers stopped me."

"Were any charges filed against you for anything involved in this incident?"

"No, none. My brothers told me the sheriff said he couldn't think of anything to file against me after everything was over."

"You say things were a blank for you for several weeks afterward. Did you practice law at all during that time?'

Jarrod shook his head. "No. I knew I wasn't up to it."

The men at the table all looked at each other again. One of the other ones said, "Mr. Barkley, is there anything else you want to say about this incident?"

Jarrod looked down at his hands, folded on the table. "Only that I deeply regret my behavior. To say I don't know what came over me is too flippant, and it's not really true, either. I know what came over me. I knew it was wrong. I deeply regret all of it. At the time – my wife died in my arms. At the time, that was all I could see – my wife, dead in my arms."

Jarrod's voice closed on his words then. He didn't know what else to say.

Graves said, "All right, I think we've heard all we need to hear."

Jarrod was surprised. Was that it? He looked up at them. They weren't delving very deeply into Rimfire at all. They weren't asking him about any other incidents in which he might have assaulted anyone else, tried to kill anyone else. There were no other incidents to talk about, but they didn't know that. He didn't have anything to bring up himself, except for incidents when he had fought to defend himself or others, or the war, but he knew they didn't want to hear about those. Self-defense and the war – they had their own rules.

"Mr. Barkley, if we need anything else we'll be in touch with you," Graves said. "In the meantime, you are still under suspension. We'll try to get a decision on this to you as soon as practicable."

Graves got up, signaling Jarrod to rise. He stood up. Graves opened the door. Jarrod went out, and it was all over. He took a minute in the outer office to breathe again, and then he left.

He walked back to his hotel in a daze, almost as disoriented after talking about the incident as he'd been after living it. The only lucid thought he had before he got to his hotel room was that he should have had Nick or Heath come with him. Until he got to his room, he was half afraid he would wander the streets lost and looking for it for hours.

But when he got to his room, he took his coat and tie off and collapsed onto the bed. He draped his arm over his eyes. His head hurt again, but mysteriously, the pain began to ease off all by itself and within half an hour, it was gone. That was when he remembered he was supposed to wire his brother in Stockton.

He found the closest telegraph office and sent off a short message – "Everything over stop. No decision today stop. Home tomorrow train stop. Jarrod stop."

Then he took a good long walk, went to one of his favorite places for dinner, had a glass of fine scotch and a steak and actually enjoyed it all.

Now he could only wait, but he would let any worrying start tomorrow, not tonight. Tonight his stomach felt good, his head did not hurt, and he wanted a good night's sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Nick was waiting for Jarrod when the train arrived. They didn't speak to each other. Nick just took Jarrod's valise, leaving Jarrod with his briefcase, and they headed for the buggy Nick had retrieved from the livery where Jarrod had left it, with Nick's horse tied on behind.

They rode in silence until they were out of town, when Nick finally asked, "You doing all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Jarrod said.

"Did the thing go the way you expected it to?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Did they say anything about when they'd make a decision?"

"They just said they'd do it as soon as they could, so I'm still yours for a while. Got anymore fences to fix?"

Nick smiled. "No, but got plenty of cows to punch."

It was only mid-day. They were home and eating by one o'clock. At the end of the meal, Jarrod said, "Why don't I ride night herd tonight?"

"You up to that? The headaches and all," Nick said.

"Headaches are gone. I slept like a rock last night. Riding night herd would be good for me, I think."

"All right, night herd it is. Heath and I were planning to do that too. Heath ought to be in in an hour or so, so we can all catch a few winks this afternoon and head out about eight."

"Sounds good."

Victoria and Audra smiled at each other. They approved of the plan.

There wasn't much conversation after that. Jarrod had only the same things to say to his mother and sister about the interview that he said to Nick. Afterward, Jarrod took a walk before he took a nap. Then it was a pretty routine time of drinks and dinner before the men headed out.

Darkness always has a way of bringing the truth out. Something about the fact that no one can see someone else – or can only see him poorly around a campfire or in dim moonlight – makes a man say things he might not otherwise say. In the light, people can see you, and they can judge you, and you can see them do it. In darkness, no one sees anyone else. Something about the darkness draws the truth out of a man, whether he wants it to or not.

The moon was not full when it came up, but it did cast enough light to see the bulk of another man and horse nearby, although not enough to see the look on his face. Jarrod was stopped on his horse, near the edge of the herd and right beside the place where the ridge began to rise up, when he heard the other horse approach. He looked over his shoulder and saw his youngest brother's light-colored shirt moving up beside him.

"Quiet here?" Heath asked.

"Very," Jarrod said. "Quiet everywhere."

"Hope it stays that way. I haven't talked to you much since you got home from Sacramento. How did it go?"

"Well enough, I think," Jarrod said.

"Do you think they'll lift the suspension and let you practice law again?"

Jarrod hesitated before he said, "I don't know. I told them all about Rimfire. I don't think the Hammond complaint will spell my doom, but Rimfire might."

Heath was quiet for a bit before he said, "Do you remember when I first came here, the Corby Kyles case?"

Jarrod's stomach sank. "How can I forget that one?"

"Maybe I should have told you at the time, told you more than I didn't blame you for taking that fool's case on. I think I told you I appreciated that you made me think about what I was testifying to and face the fact that I might have been wrong."

"You weren't wrong," Jarrod said. "I was."

"No, you weren't," Heath said. "You were right about Col. Ashby, even if I was right about seeing Corby kill him. What I didn't tell you was how much I admired you for taking that case."

Jarrod was a little surprised to hear that. "Admired me? I know you didn't blame me for it, but admired me?"

"I was still feeling my way around being a Barkley," Heath said. "When you took that case, when you tried that case the way you did – cross-examining me included – I saw the depth of the courage you had inside you for the first time. It took a lot of courage and a lot of character for you to do what you did, in the face of the community's opposition and the family's. It was one of the earliest times I can remember feeling proud to be a Barkley."

Jarrod didn't know what to say. Heath had never explained things about that case like this.

Heath said, "It won't matter to me what that board of conduct says about you. I know who you are. I know what happened at Rimfire, and I know how ashamed you came to be about it, a lot more ashamed than you came to be about defending Corby. What I'm trying to say is, you are one of the best men I ever met, and definitely the best lawyer. No board of conduct is gonna change my mind about that. If it turns out you end up tending cattle with me and Nick for the rest of your life – it still won't change how I feel. I'll just enjoy the company."

Heath turned and rode away before Jarrod could even answer him. Jarrod had to swallow his feelings away. He watched the dark form of his brother ride away, and he felt grateful – so grateful, for the hundredth time – that Heath had come to be with them.

XXXXX

The next week came and went without a word from the board of conduct, but in a way, Jarrod wasn't sorry. Each day that went by brought him a little more anxiety, that was true, but it also brought him a little more ability to accept whatever it was the board was going to decide, not to mention whatever they actually said in their final, public decision. If the world was to find out what he did in Rimfire, well, so be it. Most of the people he knew and cared about already knew about it anyway. If he were still permitted to practice law and his client list dropped because of the decision and what it said, well, so be it with that too.

It was nearly a week after that when Victoria came into the study where Jarrod had fallen asleep on the sofa while reading a book. She looked at him for a few moments and smiled, remembering so many stages of his life when she had found him asleep – in the cradle, in the crib, in his bed after being sick or injured, in his "thinking chair" after a hard case. She remembered how he didn't sleep at all after his wife had been killed, and that made her look at the envelope in her hand with trepidation. She saw from the return address that the envelope was from the bar in Sacramento. She knew she held her son's fate in her hands.

Jarrod's legs were stretched out in front of the sofa so that there was room for Victoria to sit down beside him. When she did, she shook his arm a bit until he stirred. He looked startled for a moment, then saw her and sat up straight. "Oh, Mother, I'm sorry, I must have fallen asleep. What time is it?"

"Five thirty or so," Victoria said. "Audra just got back from town with the mail. This was with it." She gave him the envelope.

Jarrod took it and saw where it was from. He shifted uneasily and put the book he was reading aside.

Victoria got up. "I'll leave you to read that on your own," she said and left the room.

Jarrod wasn't sure how he felt, about the envelope coming, about his mother leaving, about anything. His mind was whirling. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what this envelope held. But of course, he'd have to find out. What was it Heath said? He had courage and character. Well, if he really had those things, he'd open the envelope.

He opened the envelope.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Nick and Heath had come in earlier than Audra did, and they were coming downstairs from having cleaned up when Victoria came into the foyer from the library. They looked as apprehensive as Victoria felt.

"We saw Audra upstairs," Heath said quietly.

"Has he read that letter yet?" Nick asked.

"He's reading it now," Victoria said. "I didn't want to crowd him."

They were each thinking the same thing, just as Audra was. Jarrod's career could be over, right now, and he was facing what amounted to a bit of his own death alone. But they all understood he had to face it by himself. The only question was, how long were they going to leave him in there alone?

Nick headed for the refreshment table and poured himself some whiskey. "Do you want anything, Mother?" he asked.

Victoria came in and sat down on the settee. "Not yet, Nick," she said.

Heath came to the refreshment table and poured himself a drink as Nick moved over toward the fireplace. Nick paced a bit in front of it, sipping and pacing, sipping and pacing.

"Sit down, Nick," Victoria said. "You're wearing the carpet out."

Nick grunted and sat down beside her on the settee. "How long's he been in there?"

"Not long, maybe five minutes," Victoria said. "It'll probably take him a while to read the thing. It was a thick envelope."

"If he's disbarred – "

"Don't say it, Nick," Heath said. "It'll be whatever it is. We'll help him cope."

"You know, I remember when he was admitted to the bar," Victoria said, smiling. "Do you remember, Nick?"

Nick smiled a little, too. "Yeah. Big shindig for the family up in Sacramento, Heath. Made a three-day trip out of it. Went to the ceremonies, took Jarrod out to a fancy dinner. Audra and Gene were still pretty young. Man, were they impressed."

"Even your father was, and he wasn't very keen on Jarrod becoming a lawyer at all," Victoria said, and her smile faded. "I'm afraid – if they disbar him because of Rimfire – he'll be reliving those horrible days after Beth died all over again."

"No, Mother, I don't think that'll happen," Heath said. "Whatever this letter says, he's had time to prepare himself for it. He's had two years to come to terms with what happened in Rimfire. He won't be blindsided this time."

"Heath's right," Nick said. "Besides, it's like Heath said to me. It'll be whatever it is. We'll help him cope."

Audra came down the stairs only a few minutes later. She poured herself some wine at the refreshment table first and asked, "Mother, would you like some wine?"

"No," Victoria said again. "Not just yet."

Audra looked around as she sat down. "Where's Jarrod?"

"In the library, reading that letter from the bar," Victoria said.

Audra looked uncomfortable but didn't say anything more. They all just waited then, without talking, wondering when Jarrod would join them. What he would say when he joined them. Wondering what that letter said.

It was a long twenty minutes more before they saw him coming across the foyer. He headed straight for the refreshment table and poured himself some scotch, without a word. They watched him. They were scared to death.

Jarrod turned with a befuddled look on his face and said, "I'm reinstated."

"Oh, Jarrod!" Victoria jumped up and ran to him, hugging him, as everybody else visibly relaxed.

"The Hammond complaint was dismissed," Jarrod went on. "I'm not sure how he's going to feel about it or what he'll do next, if anything, but that's a concern for another day."

"What all did they say in that decision?" Nick asked.

"They just ran over the facts of the Hammond case and said they saw no improper conduct on my part. I'd read it out loud to you but you'd fall asleep."

"Did they say anything about – " Nick fumbled for the words. He ended up saying, "Well, anything about Rimfire?"

Jarrod shook his head. "Not a word. It was as if they had never heard anything about it."

Victoria was startled. "Can they do that? After they've investigated it?"

"They're justified in putting in anything they think is pertinent and leaving out what isn't," Jarrod said. "They probably did more than ask me about it - maybe even talked to the sheriff in Rimfire. But it appears they didn't think Rimfire was pertinent after they did their investigation, or at least they weren't going to crucify me for it if there weren't any charges. For whatever reason, they let me off the hook. I can go back to work tomorrow."

Victoria hugged him again.

"We'll miss you out at the herd," Heath said. "Kinda got used to having you around."

Jarrod smiled a little. "When I need a vacation again, I'll know where to go."

Nick reached out his hand, and Jarrod took it. "Awful glad for you, Jarrod – but I was never worried."

"Oh, no, of course not," Audra teased him.

Heath offered his hand next, and Jarrod quietly thanked him, not only for right now, but for that night with the herd when Heath had given him the talk he needed to hear.

Audra got up and gave her big brother a hug. "I suppose now we can all go around smiling again."

Jarrod laughed and kissed her. "Let's start with me."

XXXXXXX

The next morning, Jarrod went into the office again for the first time since he'd gone off to San Francisco months before. His secretary was not in yet – he hadn't told her he'd be coming back today. He found a big pile of mail on his desk. His secretary had gone through everything that came in and disposed of what was disposable, for which he was eternally grateful. This morning, he was going to go through the remnants.

Then suddenly, there she was, coming through the door, smiling and holding out the morning newspaper.

"I didn't expect you in," Jarrod said, taking the paper from her.

"The word is out," she said happily. "Since you're back in business, I thought I ought to be too."

Jarrod saw the story on the front page, with the headline "Attorney Barkley's Suspension Lifted." He smiled. "Now we'll just have to see if the clients come back."

"They'll be back," his secretary said. "I had a lot of people asking even while you were suspended. Don't worry, Mr. Barkley. In a week or so, you'll be swamped again."

She went out, and Jarrod leaned back to read the entire article. It was a good one, quoted the board of conduct decision. Jarrod realized the board must have wired some of the language down to the paper here, and probably the papers in San Francisco, too.

Hammond probably saw the article in San Francisco, Jarrod realized, probably yesterday since the San Francisco papers were bigger and quicker. He suddenly thought about that twelve-year-old boy and wondered what was happening with him. He hadn't heard anything. Jarrod quickly scribbled a note on a piece of paper and called his secretary back in. He gave her the note. "Would you wire this to the Assistant District Attorney in San Francisco, Thomas Brill? Tell the telegraph operator to have any response run over as soon as it comes in."

His secretary took the note and went out.

Jarrod leaned back in his chair and turned to look out the window. It was good to be in this chair again, in this office where he'd spent so much of his life. He felt free again for the first time in weeks. He felt like his fate was in his own hands again.

He heard the door to the outer office open, but his secretary shouldn't be back so soon. "Angie?" he asked.

Someone else came in.

Jarrod's blood went cold. "Mr. Hammond," he said to the man standing in the door, and he stood up. "Won't you come in, sit down?"

Luther Hammond shook his head. "I got word yesterday my complaint was dismissed and you were back practicing law again."

"Yes, I – "

"And my boy - my boy - "

"Mr. Hammond, I told you at the beginning - "

Jarrod stopped when he saw Hammond raise a gun very fast. Jarrod dropped behind his desk and was shielded from the man's first two shots, but he could hear the window behind his desk crashing into shards of glass from the bullets. Jarrod cursed because he hadn't worn his gun to town. He reached as fast as he could, up over his head, fumbling for the handgun he kept in the top drawer on the left side of his desk.

Hammond was coming around the end of the desk as Jarrod pulled the gun out of the drawer. They both fired.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Jarrod wasn't hurt, but when he scrambled to his feet to see what was happening, he found he had shot Hammond. Jarrod's heart sank. He checked to see if Hammond was breathing. He was not.

Jarrod sank into his chair just as the sheriff and his deputy were hurrying in the door. Jarrod put his gun down in plain view on top of his desk. Sheriff Madden stood in the door, gun drawn, and looked around to see what was happening.

Jarrod's headache was back. He rubbed his eyes with one shaking hand, saying, "This is Luther Hammond, Fred. He was the father of that twelve-year-old who was indicted in San Francisco."

Sheriff Madden holstered his gun and came in. "He's dead?"

"Yeah," Jarrod said. "I didn't mean for it to happen. He came in and started shooting – took out my window and nearly got me."

"You're not hurt?"

"No."

Sheriff Madden checked on Hammond, and Jarrod was right. Jarrod had killed him. The sheriff saw that Hammond was still holding his gun, and he took it out of his hand. To his deputy he said, "Aaron, go get the doctor and the undertaker."

The deputy left.

"This is the fellow who filed that complaint against you with the bar, isn't it?" Sheriff Madden asked.

Jarrod nodded. "I was cleared on that complaint. I got the reinstatement yesterday."

"Yeah, I saw it in the paper. What happened?"

"He tried to kill me," Jarrod said. "Because of his son, I guess."

"There's gonna have to be an inquest, Jarrod."

Jarrod nodded. "I know. Great way to start my first day back in the office, isn't it?"

The sheriff looked up at the shattered window. "I guess you're gonna need the glazier in here, too."

"I'll send my secretary over when she gets back. Take my gun if you want, Fred. I only fired once."

Sheriff Madden checked Hammond's gun that he was still holding. "Three shots fired here."

Jarrod nodded. "Two when he came in. I ducked and he fired once more, just as I fired."

Sheriff Madden tucked Hammond's gun into his belt, picked up Jarrod's gun and checked it. One shot fired, as Jarrod said. "Looks like it happened as you say. Maybe you'd better head home once the glazier gets here. You haven't had the smoothest few weeks you've ever had."

Jarrod shook his head. "I have something else to do now. That kid of his is alone, under arrest, in big trouble."

Jarrod's secretary suddenly appeared at the door, her mouth open, her eyes wide. "I heard the shots and saw all the glass in the street. Oh, Mr. Barkley – "

Jarrod got up and came over to her, putting his arm around her to stop her shaking. "Angie, why don't you head on home? I don't think we're really open for business yet. And stop at the glazier's on the way, would you? Send him on over."

She nodded, her mouth still open and her eyes still wide. "I'll tell him to hurry."

She left again, and Sheriff Madden came to where Jarrod was standing by the door. "Don't worry too much, Jarrod. This looks justifiable to me."

Jarrod said, "Thanks, Fred. Now, all I have to do is try to set the rest of it right."

"I want to talk to you about that, Jarrod," the sheriff said.

Dr. Merar came in. He looked from Jarrod, to Sheriff Madden, to the man on the floor. "Are you hurt, Jarrod?" he asked.

"No," Jarrod said. "Mr. Hammond is dead. You better check to be sure."

Jarrod and the sheriff watched as Dr. Merar knelt down on the floor and checked on Hammond. "Yes, he's dead," the doctor said and stood up again.

"We already sent for the undertaker," Sheriff Madden said.

And then Jarrod felt a little light headed as the adrenaline wore off. He sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk and rubbed his eyes again.

"Dizzy?" Dr. Merar asked.

"A little," Jarrod said. "Getting my pet headache back."

"Look at me."

Jarrod looked at the doctor, who looked him in the eyes, moved a finger back and forth and looked as Jarrod's eyes followed it. "You look all right, but the stress might have gotten to you. Stay seated for a bit."

"I need to wait for the glazier and the undertaker anyway," Jarrod said.

Dr. Merar looked up at the sheriff, who just shook his head in futility. Jarrod kept his eyes closed. All he could think about now was Michael Hammond, the twelve-year-old he'd gotten indicted for the murder of his mother. Sure, it wasn't his burden to pick up, but now Michael was languishing in an adult jail and the boy's father was dead on the floor. Who else would there be to look out for him?

"Jarrod," Sheriff Madden said, "I need to talk to you about something else."

XXXXXXX

"So, how was your first day back at work?" Nick asked cheerfully when Jarrod came in the door.

Jarrod had stayed in town all day, getting his window fixed, giving a statement to the sheriff, finding out information he needed, trying to get himself back together before he came home. Now he headed straight for the scotch, saying, "My client Luther Hammond came in and tried to shoot me. I shot him dead. Then Sheriff Madden came in and told me that his son Michael – that twelve-year-old boy in San Francisco – had been murdered in jail yesterday by some piece of garbage who thought a kid who killed his mother deserved to be strangled. It was not the day I was hoping to have."

He looked around and saw astonishment on everyone's face. "You can't be serious," Nick said and regretted it right away.

"Would I make that up?" Jarrod said, irritated.

"Oh, my Lord," Victoria said. "Are you all right?"

"I don't know," Jarrod said. He put the scotch down without drinking it, left the room rubbing his face and headed back outside.

Nick started after him and held up his hand when everyone else started to protest. "No. This time it's me."

Nick went out to the stable yard and found Jarrod feeding sugar to the horses in the corral there. His older brother stood with one foot on the bottom rail, arms across the top rail, then lowering his head to rest on his arms as Nick came closer.

"Jarrod," Nick said. "I really wish I had some words to help you with this, but this is just too…." True to what he'd said, Nick couldn't find the words.

Jarrod found them and looked up, out across the corral. "Incredible. Things like this shouldn't happen. Twelve-year-old boys shouldn't be in jail and they shouldn't get murdered there and their fathers shouldn't go crazy and try to kill their lawyers and lawyers should not have to shoot their clients. It turns out being suspended was the least of my troubles in this."

"Jarrod, you've had clients and criminals after you before, but the thing you have to remember is that you didn't do anything wrong in any of this," Nick said. "None of this was your fault. That board of conduct told you that."

Jarrod took a very deep breath. "I know," he said. "But a man and his son are both dead. I killed the man and pretty much killed the boy, too." Jarrod ran out of words and just shook his head.

Nick looked out across the corral with him. "There wasn't anything you could have done different, Jarrod. You did everything right."

"It still came out wrong," Jarrod said.

"You know that happens sometimes. You've told me yourself, more than once, that sometimes, despite doing the best that you can, things go wrong. You did more than the best you could. You did everything right."

Jarrod heaved a sigh. "Plenty of times I've wished I could go backwards in time and change something."

"And what would you change about this?"

"Maybe that's the problem. I can't think of a damned thing I would change - except the outcome."

Jarrod pinched the bridge of his nose, hard.

"Still got that headache, huh?" Nick asked.

"Yeah."

Nick put his hand on the back of Jarrod's neck and rubbed. "If you start believing what you just said – that there's not a damned thing you would change about what you did – you might just lose that headache."

Jarrod sighed and nodded. "I'll get to work on that, Nick. But part of me is always gonna have a hard time living with this, even if there was nothing different I would have done."

Nick eyed his brother for a long time, even though Jarrod would not look at him. Nick didn't know what to say beyond what he'd already said, and even though he believed he was right in everything he said, he understood why Jarrod was having a hard time accepting it. Finally, when Jarrod would not look his way, Nick turned and again looked out toward the horses in the corral, where Jarrod was looking.

"Could use your help around here for another week or so," Nick said. "Got more fence to mend, cattle to move. Fresh air to breathe. You up for it?"

Jarrod didn't answer for a while, but then he said, "Yeah. Yeah, I am," and turned and went back to the house. Nick just followed along behind him.

The End


End file.
